


Don’t Blink

by EllieL



Category: A Discovery of Witches (TV), All Souls Trilogy - Deborah Harkness
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Introspection, Matthew POV, Time Travel, s2e01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28658382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieL/pseuds/EllieL
Summary: Time Walking back to 1590 has forced Matthew to confront who he was then, and he’s struggling to reconcile it with who he’s tried to become.S2E01 spoiler-ish.
Relationships: Diana Bishop/Matthew Clairmont
Comments: 11
Kudos: 30





	Don’t Blink

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back, ADOW! I know this isn’t the smut you were hoping for, but that’s coming too 😉

He’d made the suggestion of the date based on the statue. It had been ridiculous, really, and far less rational than he usually thought himself. And that was how he thought of himself, in the twenty-first century: as a rational man of science. He’d worked hard to become such, curbing passions that had guided—and ruined—far too much of his life, until he thought that’s who he was.

Now, though, he and Diana had successfully walked back to 1590, which seemed a remarkable feat. But while he’d remembered he’d been off in Scotland and off the spymaster's radar, he’d forgotten just what he had been doing for the spymaster. And what he’d be expected to do again, once his presence was known. He had atoned, he thought, with the Renaissance and reason and science. Thought he’d put this life all behind him.

Though he’d be able enjoy Diana’s historian’s delight in walking through London, seeing St. Paul’s and looking more beautiful than ever, dressed in every finery he’d forgotten had made fine women look extraordinary as peacocks. She’d been exhilarated, by her success in bringing them back and by the old city revealed anew before her.

Now, though, he’d been ordered down the river, the river that Diana had marveled was cleaner than she’d expected. His cold heart had frozen when Francoise had brought him the note; it had needed to remain that way as he’d left Diana safely asleep and dressed for the Tower. He’d rowed down the river at a mortal pace, trying to buy himself time. Trying to remember the bloodthirsty monster he’d given himself free rein to be in such situations in the past. In this past.

The guards had looked upon him with a mixture of respect and fear as they’d led him to the prisoner. He’s forgotten how it felt to be looked on that way; it was not the way he wanted to be seen, not the way his  _ wife _ looked at him. That thought stuck something deep down he believed long buried, so longed-for he’d denied himself the hope of ever having it. Maybe that was why he’d allowed himself the smitten foolishness of strolling through London with her on his arm, for it was all he wanted now.

Thank goodness Francoise had gone right along with it even though she’d seen right through it. He saw the concern in her eyes about the whole situation. But her discretion was absolute, and he knew Diana was in good hands with her even if he couldn’t pull this off now.

But he would have to pull this off, he realized as he made his way deeper into the fortress, or he’d never walk out of this place alive. Removing his head would kill a vampire as surely as it would any of her majesty’s subjects. Given who he’d been, though, he’d be lucky if it were a mere beheading. If he wanted to survive here, he would have to be who he had been here the first time, a man who very much understood the consequences of failing in that endeavor.

He drew a long, slow breath of the icy, damp air as he stepped into the cell, letting every bit of rage he’d been suppressing about the situation rise to the fore. 

He only hoped he’d be able to tamp it back down when it came time to leave; it had taken more than a century last time, far more time than he had now. 

The man in the cell took one look at him and quailed, but did not speak. Matthew grit his teeth and let himself sink deeper into the role he had to play here if they were both to survive.

He would not fail her. That instinct would have to carry him through.

It was enough to keep him from blinking as he ordered the torture of the man chained before him. It would have to be, for if he blinked, they were both dead.


End file.
